


feeling, fainting, ready for my happy day

by quibbler



Series: fitzsimmons in the future [5]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 01:39:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2173155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quibbler/pseuds/quibbler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leopold Fitz decides he's going to stay at Jemma's side when she gives birth with potentially disastrous consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	feeling, fainting, ready for my happy day

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing--it's all Marvel's. This basically came about because Fitz is a child and the most squeamish human being and is a little bit crack-y.

"You don't have to do this."

Fitz gulps. This is absolutely, without doubt, an incredibly stupid idea and can only end poorly, but he wants to be here for Jemma this time. Really. "I want to." He is nothing if not stubborn.

She sighs, rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb. "You can leave whenever you want to. May's here and even though she slowly blackmails us with everything that I said during Sophia's birth, she's really very good at keeping me calm."

He's sure that he looks especially pale and drawn, but he is going to do this for her (and for himself, too, even if it's just to prove to himself that he can do this, he thinks). He shakes his head, lifting their intertwined hands so he can press a kiss to her knuckles. "I love you," he says in lieu of a response, and she smiles.

"I love you, too."

\-----

Fitz can see May trying not to crack a smile at him, and he scowls despite the tension in his muscles, the slight stick of his hair to the back of his neck that means he's about to break into a sweat. He isn't concerned about himself, though, not when Jemma is crying in pain, her hair falling in front of her face as the contractions hit. Her hand is clasped tightly around his and he doesn't think he can feel his fingers anymore.

"Jem, I think—I think m'fingers are turning blue."

"Shut it," she snaps, but her hand loosens its vice-like grip and he feels blood rushing toward his fingertips. "Oh, Fitz, I'm sorry," she moans a moment later, and he shakes his head.

"No, no, it's fine, it's okay," he replies, tentatively flexing his fingers and wincing as his knuckles pop into place. Maybe it wasn't such a great idea for him to be here after all. He turns around to give a pleading look in May's direction, and she walks over, hands behind her back, stopping at the small table and pouring a cup of water to hand to Jemma.

"Thank you, May," the younger woman says feebly, taking it and sipping slowly. May nods and stays behind Fitz's chair and he marvels at how calm she is, even though this is the third birth in the team that she's been through. He feels like he's been running a nonstop marathon for the past several months with the ante upped in the past day, and he isn't even carrying two children inside of him. He briefly stares in awe at Jemma and is about to try to voice his wonder when she starts shouting again.

"I BLOODY HATE YOU, LEOPOLD FITZ, AAAARGH."

\-----

The nurses are all crowded around the doctor and Fitz is standing beside the hospital bed, feeling vaguely nauseated as he wipes sweat away from Jemma's forehead. "Push, love, you can do it," he manages to say, and he thinks maybe she's in too much pain to be angry or to acknowledge that he said anything at all, and oh god, he's the reason—

"Crowning," the doctor says, too bluntly and Fitz looks up to see blood and bodily fluids and his grip loosens on the towel. His vision goes slightly blurry and just before he falls, he feels two hands catching him beneath his arms.

\-----

"Typical Fitz, passing out."

" _Skye_."

"What? I'm just voicing everyone else's thoughts."

Fitz opens his eyes slowly, the lights nearly blinding him. There's a face over his and he blinks several times before he realises that it's Coulson. Coulson was definitely _not_ in the delivery room, and Fitz frowns when he finally finds the words he wants to say. "Wha—What happened?"

"You fainted." May crouches down as he pushes himself onto his elbows and sits up on the bench, a glimmer of mirth in her eyes, though she looks sympathetic, too. "Right as the first baby showed up." She stands back up and his gaze tries to follow, even though his eyes are watering a little. "I'll head back, then." She walks back down the hall and he looks around at the concerned faces—and the one face trying not to burst into laughter.

"It's not funny," he says through his teeth, and Skye somehow manages to only snort before replying.

"It's _hilarious_. Look, May came out of the delivery room _carrying you in her arms_."

Trip is shaking his head. "The important thing is that you miraculously didn't hit your head on the edge of the hospital bed and that May caught you before you turned into a human puddle on the floor." He nudges Skye with his elbow and she makes a noise of surprise. "Way to tell him the salient point, Skye."

Fitz lifts a hand to his forehead. "Oh, _Lord_." This was definitely not supposed to happen, but he should have expected it. He had always hated the sight of blood, but perhaps some hopeful part of him had hoped that fear would take a backseat to what was supposed to be an important moment in his life. Instead, his stomach still seems to be tied in knots. "I should go back."

There's a hand on his shoulder holding him down. "Absolutely not," Coulson says, giving him a stern look. "We don't need you staying overnight here in a hospital bed, too. Stay out here, and you'll be conscious when they call you in."

Trip helps Fitz up into a chair with little effort, and Fitz sighs heavily. "I'm never going to hear the end of this."

"You've got that right," Skye crows as she drops into the seat next to his.

\-----

When the nurse arrives, she asks if Fitz is okay and he nods, his cheeks blushing as they approach the room. Jemma is pale and drawn and Fitz's heart skips a beat in worry, but she looks up when he enters the room. "Fitz."

He rushes to the side of the bed, reaching for her hand. "Jem, I'm so sorry, I should have been here—"

"—Fitz, you just had a vasovagal syncope. Are you all right?"

He frowns. "I'm fine. Jemma, this is not the time to go worrywart doctor on me. You're the one on a hospital bed," he chides, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. "What about you? And the babies?"

She smiles as her eyes close for a few moments. "Tired, but glad it's over." She opens her eyes again, her gaze drifting toward the side of the room. "They're small, but they're _perfect_."

He grins, wanting desperately to hold one of them but he knows that they might need some intensive care after all of Jemma's lecturing. May makes a soft snorting sound from behind him and he jumps. He almost forgot she was here. "Oh, Lord," he groans, looking up at the ceiling. "I am never going to live this down, am I?"

"Not a chance," May and Jemma reply simultaneously.


End file.
